


Free Fall

by subtextgirl



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-07-25
Updated: 2005-07-25
Packaged: 2018-05-24 05:15:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6142663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subtextgirl/pseuds/subtextgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Wasn't falling meant to be easier?" Short ficlet set in S1 finale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Free Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Not mine.  
> 

It was strange, he thought. He could actually smell the ocean.

The real ocean. Not the one that could be sanitized and diluted, and placed in a translucent urn, or bong – he grinned painfully at the unexpected flash of memory - destined to become nothing more than the faded center piece of idle party gossip. A novelty item discussed long after anyone cared to recall the actual story.

He licked his chapped lips curiously - the wind more a product of his imagination, than the stagnant atmosphere of his chosen perch - allowing himself, what he assumed the stage directions would call a 'mirthless smile'. The familiar mixture of salt and alcohol on his tongue brought their own acidic comfort. A tribute more fitting to his purpose here tonight, he couldn't imagine.

He swayed, a little too dramatically. His foot catching on the edge of the platform causing him to curse loudly. The sound reverberated off the dark expanse below, but for whatever reason, he was still refusing to look.

The momentary panic brought an unwelcome sharpening of his senses as he found himself straining to hear the force beneath him. As if that would somehow be enough to make it real. Deep down, he knew he was listening for something that wasn't really there. But that was hardly the point. This is what he wanted, right? He came here to understand her. It figured that, when the time came, he'd be too chicken-shit, or just too fucking drunk to even try.

He stopped.

There it was again. Shit. That sound. Unwelcome. But not wholly unexpected, given the situation. Figures those assholes on their bikes would inevitably succeed in drowning out this little quest for enlightenment.

Drowning. Another grin.

Sometimes it was all too _funny_ to not be a joke.

How else could you explain the last couple of days of his already monumentally screwed up life?

Dramatic irony was one thing. But this was surely parody.

What did he expect? A tiny blonde knight to ride to his rescue? Not this time, buddy. They'd already played their hand. And no amount of alcohol, it seemed, was going to shake _that_ feeling. This was no classic tale of nobility. Be my saviour, and I'll be your... downfall? There was definitely something to be said for melodrama.

But then maybe it was a little too late for that.

He sighed. Feeling his heel hit the edge of the rim, another layer of illusion ripped away.

Maybe it was more a case of who would fall first.

/end


End file.
